


Sacrament

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal and Will discuss theology, M/M, but hey - I still remembered some of the prayers, this is not what churches are for gentlemen, with apologies to my Catholic parents, with their dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 07:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: Hannibal takes Will to yet another church. He shows Will how he prefers to worship. Priceless artifacts are abused when Hannibal gets on his knees...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Semi sequel to my fic Classic. You don't need to read it to know what's going on.  
> This is dedicated to all the sinners who read Classic and wanted a smutty follow-up explaining what precisely happened in that church.

         They streamed into the Aachen Cathedral with the rest of the penitent, breaching the doors of the Palatine chapel.

         “I don’t see why this is any different from all the other Gothic churches you’ve dragged me to,” Will hissed; he didn’t like the closeness of the crowds, the chances that someone might recognize them from a Tattle Crime headline or a wanted poster.

         “Actually, the Palatine Chapel is an example of Carolingian architecture.”  Hannibal coolly gazed around the room, a wolf happy to stroll unnoticed among the lambs. “Ah, this way, I think.”

         Hannibal moved to the side of an ornate golden hall, finding a closed door and opening it as if he’d done it a million times. Will’s bare bones German was enough for him to glean that the sign on the door meant _Stay Out_ , but Will had learned long ago that barriers and boundaries rarely stopped Hannibal.

         “Why did we need to come here today?”

         Hannibal took Will’s hand, gently leading him up the stairs. When they emerged into the candlelit dome, Will caught his breath.

         “Today is the day of the Assumption, Will. And this church holds the golden shrines of both Mary and Charlemagne.” He led Will to the railing, offering him a view of a wide ornate dome, featuring mosaics of eagles and saints looking to heaven. Hannibal pointed to the bronze chandelier that hung from the dome, tarnished slightly by centuries of incense smoke. “That is Barbarossa’s Chandelier, one of my favorite pieces in the palace.” 

         Will squinted at the chandelier, before turning and smiling. “The scrollwork on my birthday cake, you based it on this, didn’t you?”

         Hannibal closed the distance between them, a hand tracing the underside of Will’s jaw. “My clever boy.”

         Will let himself sink into Hannibal’s touch, inhaling the incense and soothed by the hymns below.

         “Come,” Hannibal said, “I have one more treasure to show you.”

         Will slowly followed Hannibal around the balcony, until Hannibal stopped him. Before them sat a simple throne composed of thick slabs of smooth marble. Lofted over the rest of the chapel, it afforded the person sitting in it a perfect view of the altars, the worshipers and the sumptuous candlelit icons that adorned the chapel. The design was deceptively simple, Will reached out to trace a finger over the fine material and smooth lines; he could feel the lineage in the work.

         “A throne?”

         Hannibal stepped around Will, unhooking the rope that guarded the chair and letting it drop. He offered his hand to Will.

         “The throne of Charlemagne. The seat where 32 Holy Roman Emperors were coronated.” Will let Hannibal help him onto the throne. It felt like a desecration to sit upon the relic, but Will couldn’t deny the thrill. “And now it holds you.”

         Will smiled, but shook his head. “Well, now that I’m head of the church, should we go? Looks like it’s snack time for the believers.”

         Will tried to rise, but Hannibal’s strong hands clamped around Will’s thighs, holding him in place. He looked into Will’s eyes for a long moment before glancing over his shoulder at the crowds gathering for Eucharist.

         “Shall we take communion, cleanse our souls?” Hannibal whispered into Will’s ear. Will watched as the procession began, rows of bowed people shuffling toward a golden altar.

         “Never.” Will dropped his gaze from Hannibal’s, running his hands over the cool marble of the throne, desperate for a reprieve from the heat of Hannibal and the candles.

         “Are we beyond saving, then?” Hannibal’s fingers chased after Will’s on the marble, never touching, simply radiating heat.

         “There’s no salvation here.”

         Hannibal turned, his nose rasping against the whiskers of Will’s cheek as he observed the procession. “And yet, there is something quite beautiful about this, don’t you think?”

“You like the pomp and the ceremony. This is performance for you.”

         “And what is it for you, Will?”

         “Hypocrisy.” Will took a steadying breath, trying to quell the slow flow of blood from his brain. “Look at them. Lining up to eat crackers and drink wine, believing that will wash away their sins. Cannibalizing their god to achieve piety.”

         “To consume one’s god is to keep them with you.” Hannibal observed. Will could feel the doctor’s breath along his cheek.

         “To consume isn’t an act of worship; it’s an act of indulgence. It has no business in faith.” Will’s voice was tight,  his whole being seemed to throb with Hannibal so near.

         Hannibal’s mouth lifted at the corner, a brief movement, lost to the incense and smoke. He took a half step from Will, breaking the charged moment and allowing Will to catch his breath. Will sunk back into the hard, cool marble. His heart had just started to regulate when Hannibal gracefully sunk to his knees before the throne.

         “Are you so sure you don’t like the tradition of the Eucharist, Will?” Hannibal looked up at Will, slowly blinking in the swirl of frankincense and copal. “Here I am, a supplicant in need of sacrament. Will you deny me?”

         Slowly, Hannibal allowed his eyes to close. He turned his face toward heaven, candlelight licking over the planes of his cheeks. He opened his mouth, his tongue pressed daintily to the inside of his bottom lip, arching slightly as it waited for salvation. Hannibal was the picture of devotion; Will felt dizzy at the thought of the worship he was offered.

         His hand lifted, and he watched seemingly powerless as it sought Hannibal’s face, mapping the flickering light over the cliffs of brow and cheek.

         “You’re not interested in sacrament; you want sacrilege.” Will dipped his thumb into Hannibal’s open mouth, stretching the corner before running the pad over the soft wet heat within. He pulled out, allowing himself to rub a sheen of saliva over Hannibal’s lower lip.

         “Can they not be one and the same?”

         “How?” Will’s voice creaked, his eyes fixed to the slick lips of the man genuflecting before him.

         “Can I not worship you while blaspheming?” Hannibal drew his incisor over Will’s thumb, his eyes dancing when Will gasped. “God redeems sinners and punishes the devout. He prefers to grant redemption to those who need it.”

         “We can’t, not here.” Will pleaded with the man who kneeled before him. Will knew he should pull back, but he pressed in, slowly dragging his thumb over Hannibal’s mouth. “Hannibal, please.”

         “What better way to celebrate God than begging his forgiveness?” Hannibal’s lips closed, sucking slightly around Will’s thumb. “Would he not give deference to-”

         “Shut the fuck up,” Will snatched his hand from Hannibal’s mouth, snaring it into the doctor’s brown locks and yanking. He scooted forward on the throne, letting his legs fall open to envelop the man kneeling before him. His other hand fumbled with his zipper.

         Freeing his cock one handed, Will stroked it a few times. He allowed Hannibal to draw near, only to pull him away by the hair whenever his mouth got too close. Will could see the hunger in those eyes, the fervor that he was stoking. He wanted more.

         Fingers twisted in Hannibal’s hair, Will guided the doctor closer until he felt the feather light touch of lips along his shaft.

         “There is cruelty in the divine just as certainly as there is beauty in the profane,” Hannibal ghosted the words along Will’s cock, wet breath and slick lips making his thighs shake. “Your cruelty and beauty deserve no less devotion than the golden icons below us. Will you allow me the sacrament?”

         Hannibal’s bottom lip drew up from under the head of Will’s cock, soft as a prayer.

         “Yes.” A whisper. A plea. A benediction.

         Hannibal shifted, bringing his hands forward to clasp in his lap and closing his eyes again, as if praying. Will’s fingers loosened in the doctor’s hair, allowing him to dip forward and press his lips to the weeping tip of Will’s cock. Shifting minutely, Hannibal rubbed his face along Will’s shaft, eyes still shuttered as he baptized himself. 

         Will pitched forward, catching himself gripping on the arms of the throne as Hannibal continued to map Will’s cock with smooth cheek and stubbled jaw. Only when Will’s breath came in hitched sobs did Hannibal relent, drawing back to rest his lips on the weeping slit.

         Hannibal opened his eyes, amber iris burning into Will’s. Lungs filled with incense and no air, Will could only make a choking noise in the face of such bare devotion.

        “Domine, miserere mei, sana animam meam quoniam peccavi tibi,” Hannibal whispered, before enveloping the ruddy head of Will’s cock. Soft at first, barely any pressure. Will l closed his eyes and enjoyed the wet glide of Hannibal’s mouth. Waves of pleasure built into need as Will began to roll his hips seeking more.

         Hannibal arched, seemingly content to let Will languidly fuck his throat, But Hannibal never could let gentleness rule the day. Soon his cheeks hollowed as he pulled back, tongue undulating and probing. Will’s vision was getting foggy as he lost himself to the sensations. He was close, leaking profusely as Hannibal lapped at him.

        When Hannibal’s bottom tooth caught Will’s frenulum, he cried out, another voice blending in with the choruses seeking relief from the divine.  Will growled, sinking his hand back into Hannibal’s hair and shoving into the snarling mouth. When he met resistance, Will pushed a thumb between Hannibal’s lips, stretching his mouth obscenely as he moved deeper. Hannibal opened to him, allowing himself to be used, hands still clasped in supplication as Will thrust.

         Hands shaking, Will tried to pull back, tried to briefly escape the force of Hannibal’s devotion, pulling him closer to the edge. Hannibal lunged, then, prayer turning to demand as his hands wrapped around Will’s hips, compelling him forward and into Hannibal’s throat. Will thrust twice more before his hips stuttered, whispering the names of god and Hannibal as he came. He fell back helplessly into the throne, eyes blindly tracing over the mosaic features of Christ and the Ancients of the Apocalypse above him.  

         Hannibal continued to suckle, tongue carefully catching each drop of seed left on Will’s spent cock. The fervor gone, Hannibal was again the picture of placid reverence, bathing Will’s cock with soft kitten licks, sanctifying the flesh. Will lowered an unsteady hand to Hannibal’s jaw, stroking the solid lines and admiring the gold tone of his skin in the candlelight.

        Hannibal looked up, leaning into Will’s palm.

        “I will worship you the rest of my life,” Will promised, rubbing his thumb over Hannibal’s red, used mouth.

        “And I you.”

        Gentle fingers tucked Will’s cock away before running soothingly over his back and legs.

        “Let’s get out of here.” Will offered Hannibal a hand, pulling him close as he stood. “Symbolism is your style - I need a bed for what I’m going to do to you.”

        Hannibal smiled.

        “Gute Nacht, Schwester,” he said to the shadows behind the throne. Will spun when he heard a gasp. There, in the gloom of the doorway, was a nun, a Novitiate by the look of her habit, flushed and slightly glassy-eyed. She met Will’s shocked gaze for a moment before blushing and fleeing down a dark corridor.

        Will turned to Hannibal. “How long was she there?”

        “She arrived before the call to Eucharist. I believe she intended to warn you off the throne, perhaps chase us from the upper level; it is closed to visitors during mass.”

        “She- you- JESUS CHRIST!” Hannibal smiled and made the sign of the cross. Will grabbed his hand in a punishing grip. “You sucked my cock in front of a nun?”

        “As I said, sacrament and sacrilege are often one and the same.” Hannibal looked off toward the shadows. “I wonder which she found that to be.”

        “I can’t believe you! That poor girl, she-”

        “Now has an excellent confession to make.” Hannibal smiled at Will’s incredulous face. “No godly force made her bear witness to my idolatry. She could have left to seek the authorities, inform security, or at least asked us to stop. She chose to blaspheme with us, Will. I wonder what she will say when the darkness of the lord looms large in the confessional.”

        Will grimaced, shoving past Hannibal. “We’re not sneaking into a confessional so you can beat off to a nun’s confession.”

        “It would be a simple matter of obtaining cassocks and waiting for the right time.”

        “No.” Will tugged Hannibal to him, kissing him quiet. “You had your fun and I had mine. Now let’s get out of here so we can live to blaspheme another day.”

        Hannibal smiled, nodding slightly, before falling into step with Will. As they moved toward the staircase, Will found his mouth curling into a smile. Hannibal caught the expression with a raised brow and a smirk. “There is such cruelty in the divine.”

        “Christ, you’re going to be insufferable for the next week aren’t you?”

        “Just six days, Will. On Sundays, we rest.” 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translations:**  
>  _Domine, miserere mei, sana animam meam quoniam peccavi tibi_ \- O Lord, be merciful to me, heal my soul, because I have sinned against you.  
>  _Gute Nacht, Schwester_ \- Goodnight, sister.


End file.
